


what happens in washington

by lmoreilly



Category: Krashlyn - Fandom, USWNT - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-07-23 00:54:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7460310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmoreilly/pseuds/lmoreilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ali Krieger's life is scheduled, her routine is practical and she doesn't waste any time on anything less than necessary. Well, until she met those two from Beacon Hill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. saved by the bell

She read somewhere that gardening was supposed to have a calming effect on you. Given that she probably read it off of some old Facebook page, at this point, the woman was desperate for anything to keep her from going completely off the deep end. So, she ultimately decides to plant a tiny garden in a pot, which she places in her front window. Right now, she’s counting on two tomato plants to bring her some sort of newfound joy.

 

In the mornings, she adorns her scoop-backed, black one piece and proceeds to do her mornings laps. After toast and fruit, she takes Dallas, her shorthaired grey pointer, out around the block. She gets dressed, preferably in a patterned pencil skirt and solid blouse (somedays pant suits have to suffice) and heels. Foundation, a little bit of powder and mascara are next on the list, giving her face a little touch up. She’s never seen the point in wearing blush or concealer (or even eyeliner). It’s not like she’s going to have her picture taken everywhere she goes and it’s not like her job requires her to have some extravagant look. Kyle calls her every morning to check up on her, and then, at exactly 6:55 a.m. (6:25 if she wants to be there early), she leaves her duplex and walks the one hundred some meters to the subway station, before getting on the express route.

 

 

She manages communications for the Washington Capitals, the local NHL team. Her team of thirteen staff run the advertisements, the commercials and the press for the team. It provides a small challenge, a small rush and a little bit of recognition, but for the most part, it’s simple. It’s straightforward.

 

She comes home to Dallas, who accompanies her on a walk. Dallas is a special breed of pointer, a Weimaraner, who she bought in Germany and then brought home to America with her after her internship with Duisburg football club ended.

 

She goes to her volleyball (in the summer) or her soccer (in the fall, winter and spring). She makes dinner, maybe watches a TV show. An ACL tear in university ended her professional sports career, but these recreational outings make her life a little more bearable.

 

Her life follows an easy, straightfoward routine. It’s plain, it’s boring, and everyday, she wishes she could have more of an interesting one.

 

So Ali does just that; she decides that it is time to find herself a more interesting life.

 

.:.

 

 _Shit._ Deep within the seemingly never-ending depths of her purse, she can hear it. The shrill of her phone, blaring some Taylor Swift song.

 

“Hey Ky,” Ali gets out. Today hasn’t been her best day yet; she felt a little slow in her morning laps, Dallas had tried to chase a squirrel on her walk and her flat iron gave out on her. The result is a puffy bun on the top of her head and being two minutes late to leave her house.

 

“Hey, sorry, a bit of a rough one here,” she mumbles, her stilettos clicking against the pavement of the station, “just got to the station now and — oh for the love of God.” Ali can feel the tears beginning to well in her eyes, as the 98X Downtown takes off from the platform. “I missed it.”

 

“Alibean, they come every five minutes. You got to take it easier on yourself.”

 

“But the one that comes in five isn’t an express and it takes a detour and now, now I’m going to be late either way. I have to call my boss Ky, can we talk later? I had a meeting at 7:45 and now — ”

 

“Please, just try to be easier on yourself. I don’t think you have ever been late to work, plus they love you.”

 

Ali didn’t even answer, she just groaned as she dragged herself closer to the edge of the platform, peeking down the tunnel.

 

“Al, please. Promise me?”

 

“Fine, I promise.” 

 

“Okay, love you. You know how to get me if you need me. Muah.”

“Love you too.”

 

It’s warm out, even being the beginning of fall, which makes the additional wait a touch more pleasant. The leaves are all beginning to change, which makes for a golden yellow glow to be cast down into the subway station. She makes a mental note to bring Dallas to the nature trail tonight, to capitalize on the weather.

 

The 98 rolled down the tracks towards the platform, coming to a screeching halt right in front of her. She found herself a seat against the window, facing the opposite window. The transit map was right above the window and thankfully, the only major variation that this subway has, is that it stops in Beacon Hill, a small, wealthy neighbourhood in Washington. 

 

The change of scenery was not as bad as Ali anticipated. She had probably been riding the 98X for 6 years now that she really thinks about it, so maybe some new faces wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

 

The first stop (of three) in Beacon Hill, renders nobody too thrilling. A few business men clad in expensive suits, a few businesswomen in pearls and dresses. The second stop is even less exciting. Only three people get on, all of which are exactly the same as the last group.

 

And then there is the last stop. A significantly larger group of people get on the subway this time. A man and his wife, two teenagers (who’s earrings probably costed more than Ali’s whole outfit), two more men and four more women. And then, right before the door closes, two more women slip through the door, finding a seat right across from Ali, right below the map.

 

From some reason, she finds herself intrigued by these two. One girl is freckled, with light brown hair flowing down her shoulders, to her collarbones. Her heels look so painful that Ali’s feet hurt just looking at them, tall, bright pink stilettos, who, on anyone else, would probably look tacky. But with her floral pants and white blouse, she pulls off a light, colourful outfit, that looks absolutely adorable. 

 

And by the way the woman to her left looks at her, she thinks she is adorable too. 

 

The other woman’s presence is bigger; with broader shoulders and taller frame. She’s wearing a slim fit, navy suit, with a white button down underneath and her blonde (or is that white?) hair is in frizzy waves and tucked behind her ears. Her dimples go so far into her cheeks that they disappear and she looks at the smaller girl like she is the only thing that matters in the world.

 

Ali only catches snippets of their conversation, talking about how loaded their days are, what they want for dinner or how excited they are for the Spirit game tonight. 

 

They are soccer fans, she determines, and by the defined calf muscles she can see, she guesses they both played in university. The brown haired one is well educated, based on the fact that her keys are attached to a Stanford lanyard. Her clean kept, but not painted nails indicate to Ali that she is girly, but not too girly. She probably likes to be with her girl friends but also be able to keep up with the boys.

 

Ash, she learns is her name, from listening to the smaller girl, is a little harder to get a handle on. She’s not wearing any jewellery and neither of them are wearing rings (not engaged). This ‘Ash’ has no lanyards, but a David Yurman watch (well paying job, or maybe a gift from someone?) and rainbow dress socks (outgoing, but not outspoken). She assumes Ash 

is short for Ashley, but has nothing to confirm this suspicion. Never mind that the name seems a little too girly for the girl in front of her.

 

Suddenly, the short girl catches Ali’s eye as she studies ‘Ash’s’ hands. Ali can feel her neck heat up, praying that the redness isn’t showing on her face, and pretends she is just looking at the transit map above their heads. 

 

The subway comes to a slow and the door dings shortly after. _Saved by the bell,_ Ali chuckles to herself, as the smaller one stands up.

 

“Okay Ash, I’ll see you later. Love you,” she smiles, giggling as the blonde kisses her lips lightly. Her hair bounces in sync with the clicking of her stilettos and just as she gets to the platform, Ash calls out to her.

 

“See you later, Stanford. You’re on for tonight.” She winks and the Stanford girl laughs into the warm outside air, as the subway speeds off.

 

Ali imagines their how life. She guesses that Ash is probably a Washington fan and that Stanford is probably rooting for the other team; if Ali can recall properly, Washington’s opponent is Sky Blue. She imagines them teasing each other about their alma maters, eating food couscous and kale. Beacon Hill is an affluent neighbourhood, so they probably hop into their hot tub after dinner, relaxing with red wine and quiet music. She can feel her face blushing at the thought of the two skinny dipping and finally snaps out of it, just in time to her a throat clear.

 

She snaps her eyes out of their haze to find herself staring right at the blonde, who’s smirking right back at her. The bell dings and she realizes that she didn’t even notice the subway slowing down at her stop. Standing up quickly, she finds herself right in front of the blonde.

 

Ali gulps as she hears the low voice in her ear, desperately trying to escape the suddenly claustrophobic subway.

“Maybe try not to undress my girl with your eyes next time, yeah?”

 

She just nods, missing the smirk all over Ash’s face.

 


	2. she's smarter than she looks

Ali could not, for the life of her, figure out why she couldn’t stop thinking about those two women. As the day ran it’s course, she missed phone calls and meetings, dropped pens and misspelled countless words. She had a reputation within the office as the preppy, well put together, organized one, who colour coded everything and never _ever_ missed anything. At this point, she may as well kiss that goodbye.

 

“What’s up, klutz?” A familiar voice sang from behind her. Without even turning around, she could all but picture Becky’s braid swinging back and forth, as she snaked an arm around her shoulders. “You seem a little off today, you feeling alright Kriegs?”

 

“Yeah, a little bit of a headache I think,” she lied, “nothing a little Advil and water won’t fix, right?” She smiled as genuinely as she could muster, feeling Becky’s eyes searching her face. The two had known each other forever. After being roommates in their freshmen year at university, they and a few other girls had bought a small house together, and lived there for the rest of it. Becky had secured her job in her junior year after doing one co-op term, so she pulled a couple of strings on the inside to get Ali a job; and it paid off. Ali was currently one of the highest ranking females working for the Capitals, although today, she was sure not feeling like it.

 

“Okay Als, take it easy for me, okay?” Becky looked honestly concerned, so Ali pressed a light kiss to her cheek with a smile and promised to call her if she needed anything. Quietly, she gathered her things before racing down the stairs towards the subway station. For whatever reason, today she wanted to get home as fast as possible.

 

.:.

 

The night came and went. The sun set and the sun rose. Ali was simply going through the motions as usual, but today, felt different. She did her laps, watered her tomatoes and walked Dallas, who had decided to go back to being well behaved. She showered, paying extra attention when blow drying her hair and for some reason, payed even more attention when curling her hair. Today, she picked a black, high waisted pencil skirt, with a sheer white blouse and a _push up_ bra. _What has gotten into me,_ she moaned to herself. She applied her regular make up, but strayed from her normal routine, taking the time to apply a thin line of black on her eye lids and spending the extra minute to contour her face.

 

“Alright,” she slipped into tall, painful stilletos, wincing at the contact, to which Dallas whimpered. “I’m okay baby, pretty hurts sometimes,” she laughed at herself, “you be a good puppy, I’ll see you later.” She kissed his head and strutted out the door, her phone ringing, as if it was on cue.

 

“Hey ladykiller, how’s it hanging?”

 

“Hey Ky, good and yourself?”

 

“I have a really hot subject today,” and even through the phone, Ali could see him smirking, “so, it’ll be fun you know?” Kyle's recent occupation has been photography, which was honestly a perfect choice for him. It probably also didn't hurt that all of his 'subjects' are usually naked men, around his age. 

 

“Oh I know,” she laughed in response.

 

“So, you gotten laid yet?” Ali basically choked on her own spit.

 

“Have I _what_?”

“Oh don’t play dumb, you know what I’m asking. I haven heard about any excitement in your life in ages. Guys or girls. You should probably get on that you know. Love yourself, girl.”

 

“Ew, ew okay Justin Bieber chill,” Ali fake gagged and then joined in Kyle’s laughter.

 

“Okay, I have to go Alibean, chat you later, yeah?”

 

“Yeah for sure, I love you!”

 

“Love you and your cobwebs more, you goof.” 

 

 _Ew, ew, ew._ Ali loved Kyle, with everything in her, don’t get her wrong, but sometimes she could do without his sassy remarks. 

 

And that morning, at 6:55 a.m. Ali made the _maybe not so educated_ decision to skip the 98X and wait for the 98 via Beacon Hill.

 

.:.

 

As the subway stopped for the third time in Beacon Hill, the same familiar faces hopped on. Ali had subconsciously picked the same spot she had occupied yesterday and today, the two women had stumbled into their previous position as well; and as far as Ali could see, it wasn’t exactly calculated. 

 

This morning, they were not as well put together. The freckled girl’s pantsuit wasn’t ironed and the lace of her black bra was peeking out, along with a healthy amount of cleavage and a the faint edge of a light purple bruise. Her mascara was smudged, her foundation wasn’t thoroughly blended into her neck and her hair was messily in a bun on top of her head. The only signs that she generally knew what she was doing were her feet which were tucked into tall red stilettos, her matching purse and diamond earrings dangling down to her shoulders. 

 

Ash was buttoning up the second last button still, grumbling about something that Ali couldn't make out. Her rose button down was tucked into slim black dress pants (which weren’t ironed), accompanied by a thick black belt, which hung loosely around her hips. Ali watched Ash as she tried to put herself (back?) together, tucking in her shirt, tightening her belt and rubbing some dirt off of her leather shoes.

 

Ash checked her fat, golden watch. “Kel, you’re so damn lucky we made it here on time.”

 

“Listen here, Ashlyn,” the younger one smirked, positioning herself right in front of Ashlyn, placing two hands on her collar. Ali now, had a full view of Kelley’s ass and, unfortunately, (because Kelley’s heels weren’t nearly tall enough) Ashlyn’s face. “It’s not my fault that I tried to get undressed, quite innocently, and you, being you, got distracted.”

 

Ali gulped, her eyes raking Kelley’s legs and _lower body_ , before noticing Ashlyn’s hands, sliding down to Kelley’s butt, grabbing it possessively. Slowly, she raised her eyes to the back of her head, then higher. Literally _right_ into Ashlyn’s eyes. Her whole body visibly shuddered, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the stare between herself and Ashlyn. Thankfully, Ashlyn did that for her.

“You must be right, babe, my apologies.” She glanced up in Ali’s direction with a smirk before leaning down to kiss her girlfriend right on the mouth. 

 

The rest of the ride, Kelley had the decency to sit down beside Ashlyn to spare Ali, but when Ashlyn drags her hand up Kelley’s thigh with a little innocent smirk, it doesn’t really help the situation. Or maybe it does help, but honestly Ali has no idea what’s right and what isn’t. She also can’t figure out how a 15 minute subway ride into the downtown core takes two hours in the presence of these two. And then slowly but surely, her thoughts somehow drift to other places.

 

Places like Kelley waking up in Ashlyn’s shirt and a thong from the day before, ‘innocently’ peeling both of these items off before waltzing around the room. 

 

Places like Ashlyn’s hands grabbing her waist, her ass and her boobs, before teasingly throwing her on the bed. 

 

Ali imagines their house to be airy and spacious, minimalistic, with white, grey and black hues. She imagines their bed to have fluffy white covers and an excess amount of pillows, with tall ceilings and windows that extend to the floor. Ashlyn seems to be the more dominant figure in the relationship; she probably barbecues, drinks something hard and gets Kelley aroused when she wants, where she wants. Kelley seems to be sneakier, and seemingly more ‘innocent’ (though Ali hardly believes that is true); she probably drinks wine with everything, watches Netflix series about white collar crime and gets her way (somehow) with Ashlyn in bed. She imagines they have an abundance of _toys,_ for Kelley seems like the type who wants to experiment with that type of thing. Ali also decides they probably have some sort of pet, probably a dog, and a large backyard. They both seem to have played a sport in university and based on how toned Kelley’s arms are, she can assume that they are both still active.

 

“See you at home baby,” Ali snaps her head up to see Ashlyn kissing Kelley’s head _and then staring right at her._  

 

“Love you!” Kelley called, as she scampered off the subway, heels clicking incessantly.

 

Ashlyn never broke her stare with Ali, and she gulped again. The warmth between her legs seemed to grow, for something about how Ashlyn’s stare seemed to go straight through her turned her on.

 

 _North Glebe,_ the sound system dinged as the subway came to a stop. Ali eagerly raced towards the metal doors, anxious to get away from _this_ situation (even though she wanted to stay).

 

“She’s quite something isn’t she,” a voice singsonged from behind her, “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if we shared her.” Ali almost, _almost,_ dropped her phone and her purse. She had to remind herself to pick her jaw up off the ground as she stepped onto the platform and then turned around. “Oh, I’m just joking, you can untie your panties,” the blonde smirked.

 

“Yeah, um I was just-” Ali searched her mind high and low for words, and her brain seemed to be unable to provide anything useful. Thankfully, the blush was slowly fading away from her face, until she realized the blonde was still standing right there.

 

“But, if you think she doesn’t notice you shamelessly checking her out, you’re wrong.” If Ali had been paying more attention, she would have said it came out as a snide remark. “She’s a Stanford grad, she’s smarter than she looks.”

 

And then the blonde hair, pink shirt, black belt and leather shoes were gone, and Ali was left to pick herself off the ground and put herself back together.

 

.:.

 

The first order of duty when she got to work was the bathroom, because, well honestly, she couldn’t go a whole day with _that_ in between her legs. When she stepped out of the stall however, she was unfortunately met with a rather confused Becky.

 

“Alex, are you sure you’re doing alright?” 

 

“Yes, yes I promise, I was just a bit rushed this morning so I needed to get myself together,” she lied. Ali hated lying, especially to Becky, her best friend of all people, but for some reason she felt like Becky would judge her or think less of her if she told her about _them._ So, she decided not to.

 

“Hmm,” she paused, turning away from Ali to dry her hands, “so tonight would you come with me then? It’s a home game and we are in one of the suites with some clients.”

 

“Oh joy, I’m not feeling my best so you drag me out with clients? I’m already thrilled,” she snipped back sarcastically, laughing when she saw Becky toss a hand over her heart in mock offence.

 

“How dare you think of our clients this lowly, Alexandra Krieger.” Becky tried her best to keep a straight face as they looked at each other in the mirror, to no avail. “But seriously Kriegs, I think it’s just two of the soccer players who want to come see a hockey game. Crystal and… oh damn well, I’ll have to go check who the other one is. They both are bringing plus ones so it’s not like we will have to entertain them.”

 

“But, it’s Friday and-”

 

“Since when do you do fun stuff on Fridays? Your books and your tomatoes will be there tomorrow.”

 

“Okay well, I don’t want to leave Dallas alone.”

 

“Krieger, do not start. Bring Dallas to my place and then all the dogs can hang out together. Wear a jersey and skinny jeans or something and- wait if you don't have a jersey I have tons, just grab one of mine. Come to my place first, how’s that?”

 

“But-”

 

“Nope. See you then!”

 

Ali just groaned, staring at her eyeliner in the mirror, making a mental note to wear it more often.

For a minute, she regrets ever taking the subway in the first place.

.:.

 

That evening, for the second day in a row, she takes the non-express subway home, in hopes to see either of the two again. Yesterday she wasn’t lucky, but she also decided that she was being far-fetched and probably really creepy. But, as usual, her curiosity got the best of her and she decided that she would try one more time. Thankfully, the non-express route was less packed and even then, all the people on it were all well-dressed, pleasant smelling and quiet, so it wasn’t half as bad as her normal trek.

 

Ali assumes her usual spot, looking up to the transit map across from her, when the subway comes to a stop at Kelley’s stop. She tries (not too obviously) to crane her neck to see the sliding doors, but visibly falls when she sees no black pantsuit with red heels. She sighs, reaching into her purse for her phone, before beginning to amuse herself on Facebook.

 

Someone takes the seat next to her, so she moves her bag to her lap, not even thinking twice. Besides, who could be more important than a post about really cute puppies? She scrolls through pictures and updates from her friends, stopping to look at pictures of #flashbackfriday. Her friend Alyssa had posted a good one from the Penn State days, and Ali clicked to enlarge it, laughing quietly to herself at the mud spattered all over her, as she goofily held her captain’s armband out for the photographer.

 

The subway dinged, signalling their arrival to Beacon Hill and the person beside her rose to a stand. She looked up in shock, as a flash of red leather went by her head and an all-too-familiar freckled face smiled down at her.

 

“It’s funny, Ashlyn or I never really pegged you for a soccer player,” she bit her bottom lip, “let alone one from Penn State.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for the comments, let me know what you guys think! and it's officially roster day for the wnt!


	3. cupid shuffle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> au where kelley, ashlyn and crystal all play for the spirit :D

 

“Holy… did I not say a pair of jeans? How long are you planning on living here, you mooch?” Becky laughed as Ali stood on her front step. The bag on her left arm contained three different pairs of skinny jeans (who knows if ripped jeans are appropriate) and a variety of shirts to wear under the jersey. The bag on her right contained Dallas’ belongings (and he did not pack lightly, especially for a dog).

 

“Well, I wasn’t sure okay? These clients might be picky!”

 

“Soccer players. I said we were going with soccer players. They wear shorts and sports bras for a _living_.”

 

“Becky, might I remind you that I was well on my way to wearing a sports bra and shorts for a living?” She mocked her with a smile, “but you never know, some of us liked to be classy off the pitch.”

 

“Classy? Please, Ali, define classy. If your idea of classy is hooking up with a girl from the other team at every after party we ever went to, then damn, you would be the classiest out there!”

 

“Hey Becks, you know what they say. University is for experimenting! And don’t act too innocent sweetie. ”

 

“You haven't done anything but experiment, you ass,” she giggled, “want anything?”

 

“Whatever you're having goes, girl.”

 

“Great, two mojitos coming up. So I was thinking about clothes. I have a red jersey and a white one. I was going to wear the white one with pale jeans, maybe a few innocent rips? I assume you must have brought black ones with you,” she gestures to the bag, “and they would look good with the red. Not to mention your ass looks good. At least if you try to be antisocial, then someone will probably sacrifice their time to try to get you home with them.”

 

Ali rolled her eyes, completely ignoring the last part of Becky’s anecdote. “Sounds good!” Ali squealed, mostly down at Dallas, who she was playing tug of war with.

 

“So Kriegy, how about them lovers, eh? Any potential courtships coming up?”

 

“Why can’t everyone piss off about my love life already?”

 

“First of all, what love life are you speaking of, my dearest German, and secondly who is everyone? Do you mean that there is more than one person-which is me - who cares about your habits in bed?”

 

“Ew, oh god, I just meant Kyle. Why are you two so dramatic?”

 

Becky slides a mojito across the counter and motions for Ali to grab her stuff and follow her to her room. Becky grabs the bluetooth speaker and Ali sets up shop in the bathroom, like they have done countless times before.

 

“Curly or straight?” She yells to Becky, who is presumably buried in clothes in her closet.

 

“Curly, you aren’t straight, remember?”

 

“Yeah, you’re so funny, that’s so original, never heard that one before” Ali rolls her eyes and laughs, plugging in her curling wand and the flat iron for her counterpart. The two have always sang and danced and tried to do their hair without burning each other (which is a task attempted by many, in which few can be successful, they have learned). 

 

Becky carried her bluetooth speakers into the bathroom, so both of them could dive into their performances.

 

“They got a brand new dance, you gotta move your muscle,” Ali belts out, turning 90 degrees and pretending to twerk on Becky, who watched her in the mirror.

 

“Brand new dance, it’s called the cupid shuffle,” Ali laughs as Becky tries to twerk, only to get herself with the flat iron and fail miserably.

 

“It don’t matter if you’re young or you’re old,” they manage to get out in unison.

 

“We gon’ show you how it go.”

 

.:.

 

As the two entered the suite in the 400s level of the arena, Ali was suddenly thankful for tagging alone. It was the Capitals home opener, so the crowd was enormous, loud and energetic. Maybe this is what she needed to get her mind off of _them._

 

There were several others in the suite, none of which Ali knew. Becky tried to introduce her to everyone, but Ali’s mind was (obviously) in other place. Somewhere, she heard something about a Diana something, who played on a national team (Ali didn’t even know what sport she played let alone what countries national team she was on) and a Crystal something (she thinks her last name sounded like Done, but at this point, God only knows). At this point, it’s two minutes away from the anthem and Ali has already knocked back a glass and a half of Merlot, to which Becky regrets offering her in the first place.

 

“Your next is going to be water,” Becky tapped her glass with a shellacked nail. They had only been there for 15 minutes (at best) and she could already sense that her best friend was well on her way to the land of tipsiness.

 

“Mom, leave me alone,” she playfully whined, but Becky just groaned, turning to talk to the national team girl. Ali scanned the seats near the edge of the suite and found two at a bar height table, overlooking the rink. As the players below her warmed up, Ali picks Ovechkin’s jersey out of the red blur and follows him with her eyes, thinking about the promo that they had to do with him. When she arrived, she hadn’t cared for hockey (being a soccer player through and through), but after meeting most of the team and staff in person, she quickly becomes engulfed with the game, realizing the intricacy that it has. Well, that any professional athlete has, actually. She’d spent her whole life caring about soccer, and only soccer, but coming here had changed that, even if it was minimal.

 

Something in the back of her mind sparks as she thought about professional athletes and she internally moans at the thought of one of the Washington players she had slept with in her sophomore (or junior, maybe) year. The amount of press at that game had been astounding, for everyone had wanted to catch a glimpse of this superstar. Her endurance had been surprising for a goalkeeper, but her long fingers and her hands - Ali stopped herself, as her train of thought drove right off PG tracks and crashed into an R rated wall. She shot one apologetic look in Becky’s direction, before knocking back the rest of her wine and heading to the bar.

 

“Krieger, come here!” Becky called out, noticing how Ali tried to escape. She groaned, but ultimately complied with a (fake) smile, heading towards the group of people. “Crystal went to University of North Carolina, have you guys ever played each other?”

 

Ali scanned Crystal’s face, trying to recognize her, but eventually coming up blank. “Well, we played UNC a lot… and partied with them a lot, so I think I would recognize you if we did,” Becky smirked, raising her eyebrows.

 

“Just partied, eh?”

 

“Cool it, Broon. What years did you play, Crystal?”

 

“2010 to 2013, how about you?”

 

“2003 to 2006, you’re a lot younger than me,” she laughed, “seriously though, we did play them a lot.”

 

“Maybe you’ll recognize some of the girls who are coming later! I know a lot of the girls from the National Team played for them, but only two of them will be here tonight. Did you play all four years?”

 

“Was supposed to,” she looked over to Becky, who just stood there stoically, “broke my leg in my junior year and had six heart attacks, which threw a wrench in the plan. Recovered, went to Germany and signed with Frankfurt.” She tried to smile in Crystal’s direction, but overtime she talked about what _could_ have been, it hurt. It hurt more than she cared to admit.

 

“And you’re in Washington now because…” Crystal prompted.

 

“Tore my ACL while I was there, then decided that soccer wasn’t worth literally dying for. My body had gone through so much that I decided to call it quits, so Becky hooked me up with a job and here I am; head of communications for these dudes,” she gestured down to the rink, where a few players circled the ice.

 

“Oh, that’s quite unfortunate. Really unfortunate, actually, but I’m glad you ended up here! You should come to one of our games one time! I’m sure it wouldn’t be-”

 

“Chrissy, what’s up babe!” The suite door slammed shut between two women. One of them had a red leather bag with matching heels and the other had Washington’s black jerseys (they were the team’s alternates) thrown over a pink dress shirt.

 

 _For the love of God_.

 

“Oh hey, you!” Crystal pressed a fake kiss to the side of her face. “Ali, meet the two biggest aspects of Washington Spirits backline,” she gestured to the two girls, one of which had tucked herself into the other, “Ashlyn Harris of North Carolina and Kelley O’Hara, the smart ass from Stanford.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seriously though, the cupid shuffle is a fun song! suggestions, comments?


	4. on the rocks

Becky found her in the bathroom seconds later, with two hands on the counter, staring at herself in the mirror. Ali Krieger was one of _those_ people; blessed with gorgeous, healthy hair, olive skin and light eyes that sparkled. She had been the more outgoing out of the two, and days hen Becky would stay home to read or watch TV, she would be out, hosting/organizing/participating in charitable events, tailgating for other Penn state teams or playing a pickup game of soccer with a bunch of guys. 

 

In University, Ali could literally get anyone she wanted, with a quick smile and a wink. Sometimes, she would sneak boys into the dorm or house - but never the normal boys; she _had_ to go for the ones that were beautiful human beings, with built shoulders and v-lines that you could see through their shirts. And it made Becky jealous to no end. Thankfully, when Ali had finally decided in their sophomore year that she had had enough with the boys, she started bringing home girls. Which somewhat cured Becky’s jealousy of her longtime friend.

 

It started rather innocently; she had promised Becky she wouldn’t try anything with any of the girls on the team, so she went straight for the cheerleaders and somehow, she managed to convince the captain of the team’s girlfriend to hook up with her. Becky had just rolled her eyes when she caught them making out in the living room. Then, Ali being Ali, started to get girls who seemed like they were out of a magazine (and even out of _her_ league). For example, one away game in particular, against a Californian school, Becky had spotted Ali in a booth at the club, with the captain of the U23 National Team in her lap. It stunned her, how during the day she could do charity work and look like an innocent, smart, capable student and then by night she could literally get anyone (guy or girl) that she wanted.

 

So that would be why it surprised Becky to see her shy away from a situation with a lot

 of gorgeous people, especially given the fact that they were all professional athletes. Usually, they would have been right up her alley, even just to chat with.

 

“Kriegs, I’m like seriously concerned now,” Becky said as she wrapped her arms around the brunette, “but come on, just sit with us for the next couple minutes, and then if you still don't feel good at the end of the first, then we can leave.”

 

Becky wrapped her arms around her and pecked the top of her head. Ali just sighed, looking up at her in the mirror, before cracking her knuckles and following her best friend back out into the suite.

 

“Couldn’t handle all this?” Ashlyn chided, motioning to herself and Kelley as soon as Ali came into view.

 

“More like didn’t want to handle any of that,” she mumbled (mostly to herself) under her breath.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that, mumbles?” Kelley added, with an innocent look on her face, as if she were genuinely concerned. And if Ali had been anyone else, she would have fallen for it, but the second she caught Ashlyn’s smirk as Kelley was speaking, she completely dismissed any sympathy in her voice.

 

Ali just forced an awkward half-smile, not even bothering to answer, noticing the smirk that had formed across Kelley’s face, along with a subtle tint of red. She dropped her eyes for a split second to see Ashlyn’s hand raking her ass, stopping immediately as she felt eyes on her. For one of the few times in her life, Ali prayed to God that she didn’t look at beat-red as she felt.

 

“You look hot,” Ali’s eyes shot up to Kelly, who was ‘innocently’ trying to make conversation, “you should probably go get an iced drink of some sorts.”

 

And that’s when Ali Krieger decided that she didn’t want to be anywhere near Kelley O’Hara, but heaven forbid the woman would leave her alone. 

 

“Here,” she untangled herself from Ashlyn, before pressing a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll come with you.” She shot a look over to Becky, who grinned back, completely oblivious to the fact that Kelley had just linked arms with her, and was beginning to drag her across the suite.

 

.:.

 

“I’ll have a martini, please and-” she paused, looking back over to Ashlyn, humming. “And a bourbon, and you, Ali?” 

 

“The hardest stuff you have.” 

 

Kelley’s laugh rang out across the suite, which, in any other situation might have made Ali smile too. She was actually really adorable, the way she always was smiling or laughing about something. Well and she was really hot, whether Ali admitted it to herself or not. Something about the way she swayed her hips while she walked and how all the tight clothes she wears hugs her legs and - the bartender cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Um, yeah I’ll just go with, like, scotch, please.” She could feel Ali’s eyes staring through her. “On the rocks, if you don't mind.”

 

“Of course, ma’am,” the young guy smiled. Ali tried her hardest to avoid Kelley’s gaze, digging through her purse to find her wallet, then digging through her wallet for cash. She slipped the bartender a bill when he came back with their drinks.

 

“Enjoy the game!”

 

 _Trust me_ , _I would if I could._

 

A hand touched her knee, softly at first, pressing more when Ali didn’t respond. She looked up, meeting the glazed over stare of Kelley, not even trying to smile. But Kelley was smiling, and it didn’t seem as obnoxious as any of the other times she’s seen her. Their faces are probably less than a foot apart, Ali reasons, based on the fact that she can pretty much see the different shades of green in her eyes and the flakes of mascara right below her eyebrows. From what Ali can make out in the somber lighting, her lip gloss is smudged and thin. Against her will, her minds wanders, again, to Kelley’s soft pink lips across Ashlyn’s cheeks and neck, leaving a trail of pink shine and sparkle. She sighs. Kelley catches on.

 

“So, Alexandra Krieger,” she weight on her knee increases quite significantly, before slowly moving up, “I don’t really know you at all. I mean other than you go by Ali, you played soccer at Penn State and that apparently, according to my lovely plus one over there,” she throws her head in Ashlyn’s general direction, “you love checking out my ass.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling and then raised her eyebrows expectantly, after Ali didn’t answer. “Back to my point. I don’t really know you at all. But I do know, is that you seem, well for lack of better words, pretty stressed out about something.” 

 

Kelley’s eyes were twinkling and Ali can’t decide if it’s the pulsing strobe lights coming from the rink below them or if they literally _are_ twinkling.

 

“Is there anything Ashlyn or I can do to help that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> predictions? feeling bad for ash but proud of alyssa :D


	5. as luck would have it

When Washington scored to tie it up in the crowd went _ballistic_. The lights flashing around the arena, the screams drowning her thoughts and the amount of people around her, _almost_ made her forget.

 

Forget that there was a hand trailing not so innocently up and down her leg (or now that she was standing, up and down her back). And if Becky, who was literally a foot to her right, had noticed, she did not care in the least. Earlier in the night, when Ali’s mind was still functioning up to capacity, she figured Becky had downed at least five beers, but when the two had been wrangled into taking shots, she had no idea how hammered Becky had gotten. The fact that she could barely count past five now, wasn’t really reassuring, either. 

 

And the hand that had resumed trailing up and down her leg got a little bit higher than it had been previously, all thoughts of Becky went out the window. _Damn it._

 

“How much longer do they play for?” Ali heard from down the seats.

 

“Kel, you got to stop whining. It’s exciting! Be excited!” Ashlyn’s voice was calming, but her hand on Ali’s leg was anything but.

 

“But I want to go home. You know.” Ali shot her head over to where Kelley was sitting, two seats to her left. That statement was definitely not made for Ashlyn and Kelley definitely knew what buttons to push. And she was definitely pushing them right now.

 

Her brown eyes reflected the bright white lights from the ice surface and even if only half of her freckles were illuminated, she was still adorable.

 

“I do know, goof, but the game isn’t over. Don’t you want to know who’s going to win?” Ashlyn’s voice is teasing and her fingers squeezing Ali’s thigh is doing all the wrong (or maybe the right) things to her. “Do you want to make a bet?” 

 

Kelley’s eyes sparkled and Ali just groaned internally.

 

“I say,” Ashlyn started, briefly turning to smile at Ali, flashing a dimple, “that Washington loses in overtime. How about you, Als?” A shiver went down her spine at her new nickname, as dictated by Ashlyn.

 

“I say Washington wins.”

 

“Well, no!” Kelley interrupted, a drunk frown all over her face, “I wanted Washington to win too!”

 

“Kels, don’t get all dramatic on me, you two can both bet on Washington winning.”

 

“Then what happens if we win the bet?”

 

“If both of you win, then both of you can have whatever you want.” Ali’s jaw pretty much hit the floor, but Kelley just smirked, seemingly very pleased with Ashlyn’s answer. She turned towards Ali, digging her fingers into her inner thigh, “courtesy of me.”

 

Ashlyn’s attention went back to the game, but Ali’s went elsewhere. Well, sh forced it to go elsewhere, because the type of thoughts she was having in a hockey rink, next to her (straight) best friend and two (almost) strangers, were unacceptable. She turned to her right, to see a male hand gripping Becky’s knee and then was met with Becky’s ponytail in her face. _Nope._ To the bar it was.

 

She stood up, slowly, mindful of just how much she had been drinking, before a strong hand gripped the back of her thigh, right below her ass.

 

“Now, where do you think you’re going?” _Fuck._

 

“Uhm, just to get another drink.” Ashlyn smirked.

 

“Oh Als, overtime is just starting. Don’t you want to see what team wins?” Now, Kelley was looking up at her expectantly too, her fingers tangled with Ashlyn’s in her lap.

 

“I mean-”

 

“Good girl,” Ali winced at the use of that name, “now come here.” Ashlyn patted the seat right beside her, with a genuinely happy look. _If only I could believe it._

 

.:.

 

And as luck would have it, Washington won in the eleventh minute of overtime. Kelley had whispered something into Ashlyn’s ear and then kissed her neck, during which Ashlyn had stared right into Ashlyn eyes. And even if Ali didn’t care to admit it to herself, it was hot.

 

“What are you up to, tonight?”

 

“Uhm,” Ali’s eyes scanned Ashlyn, then Kelley, both of whom were watching her, very closely. She could have sworn she even saw Kelley lick her lips, but after that much booze, she couldn’t really tell what was real anymore. “I don’t know.”

 

“Hmm, I think I have an idea, maybe you could come with us?” Kelley grinned.

 

“I think I need to talk to Becky, my dog is-”

 

“You really think she cares about your _dog_ right now?” Ali turned to find Becky missing from her seat, but after more searching she found her, in a corner of the box, pressed against a wall. And that might have made Ali the slightest bit jealous. “Yeah,” Ashlyn smirked after Ali hadn’t answered, “that’s what I thought.” 

 

“Come on, Ali,” Kelley stood up and walked right in front of a seated Ashlyn, giving her a clear view. She extended her hand to Ali, “let’s get out of here.” Ali just sighed, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs and stood up, with the help of Kelley’s hand. The younger girl lead her out of the suite, her hand warm and reassuring. With their heels, they were almost the same height, but even with their heels, Ashlyn still towered over both of them. Ali could feel her presence behind them, without even looking. As Kelley lead Ali towards the elevators, she leaned in, shaking nervously, “Kelley?”

“Yeah Als?” She whispered back, her breath tickling Ali’s ear.

 

“I can’t do elevators. I’m terrified.”

 

“Hate to break it to you,” Kelley said, as the bell dinged and the doors opened, “but we are on the fourth floor. And these babies,” she gestured down to her heels, “don’t do stairs. Don’t worry, though.” She added, as she saw the discomfort on Ali’s face, “I can help make you more comfortable.”

 

The two went to the corner of the elevator, with Ashlyn right between Kelley. Ali felt the younger girl’s arm drop her hand (which, honestly, she forgot she was holding) and snake around her hips, with an easy smile. She turned her head to look at Ashlyn, who’s dimples were on full display as she bit her lip, staring down at Kelley’s ass. As the elevator started downwards, she watched Ashlyn pull Kelley back a little bit, so she could grind on her girlfriend’s ass.

 

Ali sighed, watching Ashlyn adjust her pants and then pull Kelley farther back. 

 

“If you like watching her like this,” Kelley threw her head back in Ashyn’s direction, while her whisper tickled Ali’s cheek, “you’re going to love watching her later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who's ready for RIO!!!!!!!! *waves hands*


	6. navy blue

Kelley slid out her door, heels clicking on the pavement. The neighbourhood was only illuminated by a few street lights, given that it was nearly midnight on a fall night. Ashlyn thanked and tipped the driver, getting out of the car right beside Kelley, and Ali scrambled to keep up from behind the driver’s seat. She clutched her purse to her chest, goose bumps raising on her arms. Maybe it was the chilly night air, but it the fact that she was following _basically_ two strangers into their house in pitch black, probably had something to do with it. Ashlyn walked a pace behind Kelley up the driveway, briefly turning around to check on Ali before shamelessly watching her girlfriend’s ass. 

 

“You good, Als?” Kelley called, stopping and stretching her arm out for her to grab. Ashlyn stopped and Ali tapped past her, grabbing Kelley’s hand and nodding. Kelley’s hand was warm, but not sweaty and for whatever reason, calmed Ali down. She felt Ashlyn’s eyes working down their backs, but was tipsy enough to not _really_ analyze it, as Kelley led her through their front garden on an interlocked path. 

 

“Okay, here we go,” Kelley slipped her key in the lock and showed Ali in, hitting the light switch on her way. The front room glowed a warm white, revealing very tall ceilings and marble flooring. Of the minimal fixtures that Ali could see, it was a few indoor bushes and a small seat near the mudroom door. 

 

Ashlyn quietly shut the door behind them and kicked off her Sperry’s, kissing Kelley’s cheek and smacking her butt and she snook between the two. “Anyone want a drink?”

 

Kelley smiled warmly towards Ali as they took off their shoes, gesturing for her to follow them, leaving her purse and phone beside the door. Ashlyn flicked on more lights as she went, lighting up a huge dining room with a beautiful chandelier, and a huge kitchen. Kelley hummed and grabbed Ali’s hand, as if she were urging her to hurry up. 

 

“Whiskey? Vodka? Rum? Wine?” Ashlyn rhymed off options as she stood in the doorway of their floor to ceiling booze cabinet. Kelley dropped Ali’s hand and padded up behind her girlfriend, moving Ashlyn’s hair over one shoulder to kiss her neck. 

 

“I’ll take a vodka babe, and Ali,” she turned to look at the brunette, who still looked shaken, “could probably just use a glass of red.” Kelley’s eyes scanned the cabinet, before turning back to look at Ali, her figure illuminated in the dim lights. “Can you open that Merlot?” Ashlyn nodded, turning to face Kelley and grab her hips. “Thank you babe. Ali and I are going upstairs.” She winked and Ashlyn just nodded, fully understanding the unspoken words.

 

Kelley smiled at Ali and offered her arm again, which Ali gladly accepted. The two made their way up the pale hardwood stairs, past the large, main chandelier hanging from the top ceiling. Carpet was a welcome feeling against Ali’s cold feet, and she took in all of the pictures along the walls. All in matching black frames, there were pictures of Kelley at Stanford and Ashlyn at UNC, just the two, and the two with friends and teammates. Some frames had old jerseys (theirs and others) and others were filled with ribbons, armbands, access passes and medals. Kelley led them through a set of double doors and flicked on the light switch. Full length windows on the right and two doors on the left made the room feel huge, given it probably was, and the massive bed in the middle looked all too inviting.

 

“This is beautiful,” Ali marvelled, not even noticing Kelley, who was beginning to rifle through a door in the walk-in closet.

 

“Thank you. I love it. Now, what can I get you to wear?”

 

Ali cocked her head, looking over to a grinning Kelley who was leaning over a drawer. “Uhm…”

 

“I mean, you don’t have to change, but those jeans look uncomfortable. Just come here.” Ali crept over into the closet to look into the drawer that Kelley was looking at. At first, it was just a blur of black, red, pink and white, but upon closer examination, it was obvious that she was staring into Kelley’s lingerie drawer. There were straps upon straps and lace and rhinestones, and Ali gulped when her eyes wandered to the right, swallowing even harder as she saw the size of the dildos and strap ons that Kelley had. 

 

“I think you’d look good in red, yeah?” Kelley mumbled, picking up a bundle of red fabric out of the door and looking to Ali, who’s eyes were still as large as saucers.

 

“Well, uh, like what are you…” Ali’s voice trailed off as Kelley stepped between her and the drawer, looking cautiously into her eyes.

 

“I’m going to wear this navy one,” she held up a bundle of navy lace in her hand. “Listen, you don’t have to be nervous. Ashlyn seems dominant and scary, but she's a teddy bear. She loves watching me, so I know she’ll love watching you too. You just have to tell her if you don't like something. She wants you to feel great.” Kelley rubbed her hand up and down Ali’s arm, and Ali nodded weakly. The honesty and sincerity in Kelley’s voice was prominent. “Want to get changed now? I’ll need you to help tie something.”

 

…

 

I slipped into the strappy bralette, looking at myself in the mirror beside Kelley, who was busy shimmying into her thong. Her navy blue lace somehow complimented her freckles and her ensemble fit her like a glove. It was mouthwatering and looked like it was custom made, so slightly tipsy Ali didn’t even think twice about checking her out. It was also clear that Ashlyn had already had enough time to successfully make the drinks, but Ali assumed she probably knew what was happening and was just stalling at this point.

 

Any other day, Ali would have given a hard no to the offer of standing in a stranger’s bedroom wearing her lingerie, but watching Kelley stand in front of the mirror and pull her boobs up closer together, Ali was maybe just a little bit thankful that Becky had left her out to dry tonight.

 

“Can you just,” Kelley’s back was still to Ali and she was holding two navy blue satin straps in her hands behind her back.

 

“Yeah,” Ali stepped up, reaching to help cross the straps across Kelley’s back over and over. Going to tie the bow below Kelley’s shoulder blades, Ali’s shaking hands became easily noticeable, to which Kelley just smiled at her in the mirror.

 

“You really don’t need to be nervous, you know,” Kelley told her in the mirror as she worked on tying the bow, “you’re super hot, it’s not like Ashlyn is going to be dissapointed, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Ali didn’t reply, but finished the bow with a definite tug. Kelley turned around between Ali and the mirror, facing her, and put two warm arms around Ali’s neck.

 

The freckles on Kelley’s face suddenly made themselves prominent again, accented by the various shades of green in her eyes. Ali could feel Kelley’s breath on her bottom lip, and could see the smile that played in the corners of her lips and the crinkles beside her eyes. Kelley stepped closer, urging Ali to do the same. Slowly, two hands made their way onto Kelley’s hips and she smiled in return.

 

“I promise, it will be good. Just trust me.” And then it was Kelley’s lips against hers, and Kelley’s hands tightening around her neck. It was Ali’s head swimming and hands shaking more, feeling Kelley’s lace bralette against hers and strands of her brown hair against her face. Ali gripped Kelley’s hips harder, thumbs drawing circles against her hips bones, pulling her closer.

 

“Ahem,” Ali jumped in Kelley’s embrace, feeling blood rush to her face and her lips. Ashlyn stood in the door way, hand in one pocket, whiskey in the other, still fully dressed. “Your drinks?” Kelley sighed dramatically, looking back at Ali before kissing her again.

 

“We were actually busy,” she puffed and grabbed Ali’s ass and made her way out of the closet, towards her drinks. “Thanks for interrupting.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this whole hope solo ordeal is very emotional


End file.
